Under The Mask
by ChairThief
Summary: "The hell..?" He dropped the mask and drew back a bit, unsure what to think. The Pyro was, undeniably, /ugly/, no two ways about it whatsoever. But after the initial shock passed, the Scout found himself getting curious again. Everybody had a story.. And he wanted to know what this guy's was.
1. Chapter 1

He was sure he was donefor. Out of ammo, cornered, and injured with no medic to call to or even a measly medpac to be seen, the Blu Scout pressed himself against the hard wooden planks of the wall as the Pyro approached him. The seconds passed by in an agonizingly slow fashion, sweat dripping down the Scout's face even though the air was frosty enough for him to see his own laboured breath upon it. The Red Pyro was within a definite attacking distance, but he didn't raise his flamethrower just yet, observing the Scout through the cold eyes of his gasmask and tilting his head a bit. The Scout had always been terrified of this.. This inhuman /thing/. He couldn't even begin to imagine what was going on in the Pyro's head as he (it?) studied him.. And frankly, he didn't want to even so much as try. Stiff with fear, he found his gaze absently following the wispy tendrils of white breath that seeped from within the mask, curling upward and disappearing into the air... And he was immediately grateful for what those tiny puffs of white brought to his attention.  
Hardly five feet above the Pyro's head was a ledge upon which was a crate- and whoever had placed it there apparently hadn't thought it was very important, or had thrown it aside in haste, for it was balanced awfully precariously. Sending up a quick prayer that this would work, he battled himself silently for a split second before quite suddenly he launched his empty gun at the crate with the wild abandon of a cornered person with nothing to lose. The Pyro, who had satiated his curiosity of the trembling little creature and raised his flamethrower, was startled by this sudden action, looking up just as the crate fell on top of him. The force of it immediately flattened him to the ground with a loud crash. Consequently the crate broke open upon impact, revealing it to have been mostly empty, save for a few tools such as a hammer and a pair of pliers; and lots of dust. The Scout waved his hand in front of his face, coughing a bit before pushing himself away from the wall, tentatively hobbling forward on his good leg. The other one had a bullet buried in it and merely acted as deadweight for now. The Pyro lay motionless under the pile of broken planks that had previously constituted the crate. The Scout swallowed, too relieved to even celebrate his good fortune in any manner, wiping some of the sweat from his brow and preparing to make his way out of there.. Before he noticed a bit of movement.

"Oh shit.." The Pyro was still alive. Definitely unconscious but breathing. The Scout looked around a bit shiftily, unsure how to deal with this situation. Something had to be done before the guy woke up, which would probably be soon, seeing as the crate really hadn't been that heavy- the Scout knew he wasn't fast enough with this injured leg to make it out of there far enough to be safe within that time frame..  
His gaze fell on the hammer that had slid across the frosty floor close to him when the crate had broken apart. Slowly he bent down to pick it up.

"Could just.. Kill him." He hesitated even as he said it. Cracking a guy's head open while he was totally out of it seemed kind of underhanded; even though they were all a bit morally questionable to begin with. After a moment he grumbled and tossed the hammer away. That wasn't happening. Not because he had a sudden attack of conscience, but rather because.. Well, who wasn't curious about the Pyro. Even his own team's pyrotechnician was a mystery. Pausing a moment, he finally gathered his thoughts and crept forward as best he could, trying not to put any pressure on his bad leg. Crouching down, he unbuckled his belt and pulled the Pyro's hands behind his back, wrapping the belt around his wrists and buckling it again tightly. After he was sure it was secure, he hooked his arms under the Pyro's and, with effort, dragged him over to the corner where snow wasn't flooding into the building.

"Fuck, man.. Didn't think you'd be this heavy.." He grunted, finally letting go and slumping down against the wall. After taking a short minute to catch his breath, he looked over at his.. Captive? Felt weird to use the word, even mentally, but the situation semed to call for it anyway. Reaching out to prod at the Pyro first, to be sure he was really still out, the Scout swallowed thickly, his hand moving upward, hooking beneath the thick, black material of the Pyro's mask..


	2. Chapter 2

The Scout's skin prickled a bit when he caught sight of a bit of -almost comically- fiery red hair; So bright it was very nearly orange. Swallowing lightly, he dared to pull the mask off further- despite his sudden trepidation, at this point it would be stupid to just /not/ do it. So, with one smooth movement, accompanied by a forced surge of courage, he found himself quickly delving into the Red Pyro's as of yet totally guarded secrets.  
And immediately he was appalled. It was instantly obvious why the guy never showed his face- not only was the entire left side of his head bald and covered in ugly scarring that disappeared below the collar of his suit to likely extend down his body, but additionally a strange metal piece seemed to be bolted onto his face. The Scout had never seen anything like it- almost looked like something out of a science fiction movie. The aforementioned metal piece fully covered the Pyro's bottom jaw, and extended upward to encase his mouth and the bottom of his nose. It seemed to have a detachable piece where his mouth ought to be, as well as ventilation grids near the nose, which white puffs of breath filtered out through every few moments.

"The hell..?" He dropped the mask and drew back a bit, unsure what to think. For the first few moments he couldn't think, almost overwhelmed with something very akin to, but perhaps not quite horror. The Pyro was, undeniably, /ugly/, no two ways about it whatsoever. But after the initial shock passed, the Scout found himself getting curious again. Everybody had a story.. And he wanted to know what this guy's was- it had to be, in the least, interesting. His mind went wild with ideas- likely none of which were true, but it was surely an engaging pastime to imagine the possibilities. So engaging in fact, that he didn't even notice when the Pyro began to wake up.  
On the Pyro's end of things, the world was bleary and his thoughts, blearier. What even happened? One moment he was fully prepared to torch an enemy Scout and the next he was waking up on the floor. Whatever happened, he was sure he'd at least have a nasty bruise from it by the way his poor head felt like it was about to split in two. Of course the very next thing he noticed was that he couldn't even lift his hands to rub his pounding head. A bit disconcerted, he tugged a bit, only to find that his arms were bound behind his back, and- was that his mask on the floor? And who was- ohhh shit. It was the Blu Scout; He was sitting not far from the Pyro, hugging his knees to his chest and resting his chin on his arms. It took the Scout about two seconds to realize that his captive was awake and looking at him, and he drew back just a bit, making a face. Damn Pyro was even creepier when he was conscious.. And surprisingly expressive for someone whose face was halfly covered in metal. Shock, embarassment, confusion, fear, maybe a bit of shame, all crossed his face at once before he looked away, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Ah can uh.. See why yah wea' th' mask all the time." The Scout interjected, almost a bit shyly, given their situation. He realized just how wimpy he sounded about two seconds after this and mentally slugged himself in the face- be assertive, don't let him know you're just as.. If not more, freaked out as he is. You're the one in control here so stop being such a whaz.

"H-hey'a, speak up or somethin', when I talk t'you, creepy." Without really thinking he reached out to grip the Pyro by the arm and shove him to the floor roughly, leaning over him. Okay maybe that was a little too assertive. Their gazes met for a few moments.. What he saw surprised him. The frightened, even defeated look in his captive's eyes exposed something so very /human/ in the Pyro.. And the Scout was reminded all too suddenly that behind the mask, behind the metal and the scars and the general 'legend of the Pyro', there was a person. Ultimately human, just like him. He coughed a bit, pulling back- a strange feeling was pooling in his gut, and he wasn't sure if it was good or not. His grip went lax and he glanced off to the side a bit shiftily before looking back down at the Pyro just sternly enough to mean business and forced out a confident,

"What's ya name?" The Pyro looked up at him silently for a few moments. He had fully expected the Scout to just off his miserable ass and go back about his business. The fact that he hadn't was a surprise in and of itself.. Now personal questions?  
He was forced out of silence when the Scout's grip suddenly tightened on his arm, expressing his captor's impatience rising. The Scout glared down at him, snorting a bit.. He'd be damned if he let the Pyro silently intimidate him into stepping off now.

"... Spiro." Came a sudden, gentle reply from below. Despite having expected a response, any response, the Scout was still surprised to hear it. To him it was like listening to the Pyro through a wall. Possible and intelligible if you listened carefully enough, but fundamentally indistinct and muted. The Scout swallowed again as he let this process, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Just looking at the guy still made him feel as if he was going to spontaneously combust... Though even in spite of that, knowing that the muffled noises he made actually equated to words was somehow comforting..?

"R.. Right, yeah, uh. That's a funny soundin' name." There was only a short silence between them before the vaguely muffled voice of the Pyro tentatively ventured to ask,

"... What's yours..?" The Scout opened his mouth to tell his captive to mind his own damn business when he was interrupted by a familiar, heavily accented voice from the doorway across the room.

"Scout! Zhere you are, come along now ve von zhe match-... Vhat.. Ist going on here..?"


	3. Chapter 3

Back at the Red base, it didn't take long for the rest of the team to take notice that their Pyrotechnician was missing. A quick sweep of the base and the grounds directly around it confirmed what had previously been suspicion. So it was that the Soldier called an emergency meeting in the rec room.

"Seems our professional arsonist has gone M.I.A. Now I want everyone in here to take turns telling me where they last saw him, starting with the Engineer-" He shot a glare at the Scout who had been ready to interject. "And NO INTERRUPTING!" He finished, slapping one hand on the table which the majority of the team was seated at. The chastised Scout shut his mouth but didn't hold back a miffed glare in return to the Soldier's. Meanwhile the patience of the Engineer served as a sort of cushion to the stress that was quickly building in the room.  
He quietly awarded the Scout with a subtle, reassuring grin before beginning.

"Well, last I saw 'im 'e torched a Spy fer me then sat around fer a little while to be sure 'e wasn't comin' back. Then 'e took off to go help our Scout. Din't see 'im again after that." The Soldier nodded in approval of this information, then pointed to Scout for his story. It only seemed logical to move from story to story based on the Pyro's own movements. Playing such a supportive role on the team lead him to encounter and assist his teammates multiple times during combat. And the Scout was all too eager to describe how his had gone.

"I was gettin beat up by that damn Blu Soldier, had a little hideout right behind a freakin' doorway and he kept offin' me every time I got near it. Finally I sees th' Pyro comin' up behind him and I smiled to myself and jus' kept on runnin' to keep him distracted. That was the only time I saw th' guy." The Soldier gave him a nod of approval as well and the question was then redirected to Heavy.

"It was only thirty seconds left of time, and I saw him only in passing.. Going after wounded enemy Scout." At this point the Medic raised one hand politely. The Soldier, inwardly thankful for the German's politeness, offered a considerably gentle,

"What's up doc?" It took him about two seconds to realize what that sounded like, and he immediately hoped no one else did. No such luck. The comment garnered a couple cursory smirks and even a snicker or two, despite the situation. The Medic remained straight faced, merely continuing on to express the thought he'd been chewing on since the meeting began.

"Might I suggest zhe possibility of abduction." The room went silent for a moment or two; the Medic took this as an invitation to carry the train of thought in continuance. "I feel it is entirely possible zhat zhe Blu team may have come upon a chance to relieve us of our Pyrotechnician. And I vould not put it above zhem to have taken zhat chance. Zhe Scout Heavy speaks of could have been a lure."  
This was definitely food for thought. The Spy, who was sitting on the table as opposed to a seat near it, crossed his legs and rested his chin in one hand. The Sniper, sitting near him, chewed his lip for a brief moment before sitting up a bit straighter, hands braced on his knees.

"Well what good would it do t' play keepaway with 'im? If they kill him he's just gonna respawn here.." He paused only briefly to process the idea further. "And I don't think they can possibly be allowed to keep him forever." The Medic nodded a bit, placing one hand to his mouth gently in thought.

"Zhis may be a good time to contact zhe administration." The reply he recieved was a general atmosphere of silent agreement, though the Demoman was the only one to agree vocally.

"Aye."


	4. Chapter 4

(I apologize in advance, my "n" and "k" keys have been a little sticky lately, which makes writing just a bit of a hassle)

The Blu Scout looked up in surprise at his team's Medic. They won? Something must have happened out there while he was temporarily down for the count, because when he was chased into this janky old shack, they were getting their collective asses kicked. Hard.

"Ah- ay there, first things first, c'mere and pry this fuckin' bullet outta my leg." He motioned for the still-confused Medic to come over, which he did.. Albeit a bit hesitantly. Kneeling down near his injured teammate, he directed the medigun's beam to the gunshot wound and allowed the device to do its work. But even as he operated the medigun, his gaze never left the Pyro- not only was he surprised that the youngest member of his team was able to pull off a stunt like this, but he was also fascinated by the Red Pyro's facial structure. He knew immediately that he simply had to get a closer look at that metal apparatus. Meanwhile, the Scout grimaced a bit as, with the help of the medigun's healing properties, the bullet worked its way out of his flesh and the wound itself began to sew back together. As soon as the relatively quick process was complete, he stood up and stretched out a bit, bending his leg experimentally and finding the Medic's work satisfactory. Grinning, he slapped the Medic's back in a friendly manner- though perhaps just a bit roughly.

"Thanks, doc." The Medic straightened his glasses with a tight expression, appreciative of the sentiment but not /quite/ so much the way it was expressed. The Scout picked up on this but decided to try and blow past it by pretending not to notice.

" Mhn.. So .. How in zhe vorld did you manage zhis..?" The Medic asked, looking back down to the subdued Pyro. The Scout, taking this as a great time to build himself up a bit, grinned self assuredly.

"Wasn't that hard, got 'im right where I wanted 'im and dropped a crate on 'is head. Out like a light." While it sounded absurd, and far more controlled in nature than it likely had been, the outcome was the same either way.. And the Medic was, as much as he loathed to admit it, impressed.

"Vell.. Gut.. Gut vork, Scout. Let's get back to zhe base and.." He paused, glancing down at the Pyro. "Figure out vhat to do from zhere." The Scout nodded in agreement, immediately turning to nudge his captive with his foot roughly.

"A'right, c'mon. Get up." The Pyro flinched a bit at the foot coming in his direction- he still fully expected to be beaten senseless at some point or another in the very least. He remembered several instances right off the top of his head where he'd set the Blu Medic ablaze, and even laughed as the man scrambled around on the ground to put out the fire that was quickly consuming him. He couldn't help but think that some sort of recompense was very soon to be put in his direction..  
This didn't go unnoticed, and the Scout retreated a bit, allowing the captured Red team member to slowly get to his knees, then stand to his full height- which wasn't impressive, being a humble five feet and three inches. The Scout watched him, then grabbed his arm again, turning to haul the Pyro out of the building- but was met with a bit of resistance he didn't expect.

"Nh.. W.. Wait.." Both the Medic and the Scout looked at him simultaneously. The Pyro's gaze went downward immediately, his stomach dropping similarly. "I.. May I have my mask back.. Please."  
The silence that followed his request, punctuated only by the lonely whistling of the wind outside, served to raised his stress in a slow but steady way.. So much that he almost jumped a bit when the Medic, undoubtedly recalling those many many times of being set ablaze, offered a vaguely curt,

"I am not sure I owe him zhat kindness.." There was a short moment of agreeing silence between the Medic and the Scout, and the Pyro's stomach sank further.

"But I suppose it ist zhe honorable thing to do..?" The statement, while surprising, sounded more like a question, casting light on the Medic's trepidation to be 'honorable'. Knowing the captive Pyrotechnician was uncomfortable without his mask was a delicious way to get revenge.. To drag him back to the Blu base, exposed and under scrutiny would definitely deal a blow that his ego would have trouble recovering from; to have a chance to see his panic and horror. That /would/ be much more satisfying than simply beating the snot out of him. Psychological bruises took much longer to heal than physical ones..  
But.. At the same time, he felt as if that was taking more from the Pyro than he owed.. No, there were other ways to handle this situation. Without making eternal enemies. The Scout seemed to follow this train of thought just as well, and when the two of them glanced at eachother, it was clear they were on the same page. Silently the Scout trotted over to pick up the gasmask, coming back over with an air of purpose and none-too-gingerly pulling it back on the Pyro's head.

"A'right let's get outta here." The Medic nodded, walking out first as the Scout gripped the enemy Pyro's arm once more and shoved him forth, heading out in the direction of the Blu base.


End file.
